So I have writer's block for four months, and then this pops out of my ass. What the hell?
When the Major leaves Section 9, everyone is angry. Everyone one is sad. Everyone is hurting.
Almost everyone moves on.
--
Batou simply does what he always does when he has been hurt; he pulls into his metaphorical shell like a turtle, and refuses to acknowledge anything that isn't required for his basic existence. Better to simply function, exist, and not think at all; better to shoulder his way through the pain. Alone.
Like he always does.
Aramaki is content to let him do this for approximately three months; the Old Man understood what Motoko had meant to him, understood the pain of seeing someone you love walk away without looking back.
So the Chief let him wallow in his misery for three months. And then he finally took steps.
Looking back, Batou should have realized that Togusa was the one who had finally snapped, and came up with the stupid idea. He was, after all, the only one in the whole unit that was crazy enough to be carrying another personality in his head,(1) and insist that it was a completely separate person, and actually quite nice once you got to know him, and "Oh, what was that? What size straight jacket do I wear?"
The affair with the Individual Eleven had come to a head near the end of October,(2) 2032; in January, Aramaki holed up in his office with Togusa and Ishikawa for three days. A week after this meeting, Togusa walked into the break-room, looking different.
He had cut his famous hair into a more common style, and had dyed it black. It hung stiffly, looked oily and quite disgusting, and so out of place that it made Batou want to cry by simply looking at it. And his eyes were different too, some nasty shade of mud instead of that intense molten gold that Batou was used to.
Everyone was in room at that time, which meant that everyone could see it, and at the same time, which made Batou plenty upset, because since when had he been another everyone to Togusa? When had he become another face in crowd? Why hadn't he been told beforehand?
It was a joke. A weird, sick joke. It had to be, because Togusa had always said that he would never dye his hair, and never get colored contacts, and never, ever give in to all the higher ups that wanted him to. The higher ups that saw him, and gnashed their teeth, and glared at Aramaki, and told the Chief to do something about that scruffy looking young man with the bad haircut and unnatural eyes.
You bastard, Batou thought silently. You bastard, you absolute bastard.
Togusa finally noticed everyone staring at him, and looked up from the coffee pot, arching an eyebrow. "Yes?"
And one by one, everyone had looked at each other, and shrugged at each other, and buried their noses back into their various entertainments.
Batou kept staring, though. "Togusa?"
The natural slotted the pot back into place and picked up the fresh coffee mug. "Promotion, Batou. I am now the new field leader for this section. I know you were next in line, but...well, you've been occupied lately. The Chief didn't want to bother you, and came to me instead. Though I don't actually recall your name ever coming up in the conversation."
"Field leader?" Batou asked in a faint voice. "But the Major --"
"Is gone. For good, I would imagine." Togusa began heading for the door, but stopped just before exiting. Without turning around, he said, "Batou, I want to a report on my desk tomorrow concerning what's been so interesting to you for the past three months that you couldn't be bothered to tell me about it."
Batou had known what that meant. It was a hammer blow straight to his gut, one that blew all the air out of him, the shock painful and sudden.
Idiot. He was an idiot, for trying to push everyone away, and this was Togusa's way of getting back at him.
And what a stupid, stupid way of getting back at him. Togusa couldn't lead, he didn't have the experience, the authority, the temperament necessary for the work. He couldn't lead, because he was young, and kind, and --
He couldn't lead. Not Togusa, not his partner.
His precious partner.
--
The transition to Togusa's leadership was smooth; the only problem that could be readily identified was with Batou, and Togusa kept reassuring Aramaki that he would sort it out -- "It's a personal thing between Batou and me."
It would have been a better lie if Togusa hadn't known that it was actually true. Because it was a personal thing between himself and Batou, if only because Togusa knew that Batou had always been a little bit in love with him (which frankly, was the most uncomfortable thing in the whole world, but hey, you learn how to deal, right?) and that the cyborg was heavily turned on by authority figures. Togusa knew all about the crushes Batou had had on various COs, (including the Major, oh, yes) and firmly decided that he would only be one more in a long line.
Just one more.
Right.
--
A month into Togusa's new position, and things were already heating up. Batou really wasn't quite sure what was happening, because he hadn't felt this -- this emotion towards Togusa for two years now. But it was back, here, right here, a live wire under his skin that sparked and sizzled whenever Togusa walked by. It was just like that first year when Togusa had joined up -- stubborn, brave, using bravado to cover his confusion, and above all, different. Major had slapped them together for Togusa's first mission, and the combination had worked.
Maybe too well; remembering the outrageous flirting that had taken place during that period would make Batou's ears burn if he still possessed a flesh and blood body. It had taken the dismemberment of the section to make him take control of himself, and block Togusa out of his mind.
And now it was all flooding back.(3)
(1) Because I just arbitrarily decided that Luipaard popped out RIGHT AFTER SECOND GIG, and was all like "y hallo thar!" and that the rest of Section 9 was like, "OMGWTFBBQ?"
(2) Another arbitrary decision, according to my personal timeline.
(3) PH34R T3H SUCK33 3ND1NG.
